“So from now on, you need to act like you’re crazy about me. And obviously, you’ll have to keep that up until this program ends.”
“…Huh?”
At Min Yu-hyun’s words, Beom Do-il tilted his head.
“Pretend you’ve been my biggest fan from the start. You really don’t get what I mean?”
“Yes.”
The way Do-il nodded with a completely blank expression made Yu-hyun’s stomach twist in frustration. He couldn’t believe someone who was supposedly an A-rank Esper from the Central Bureau could be this clueless.
As he tried to figure out how to get through to this idiot, it occurred to him that maybe Do-il’s earlier dumb question could be put to use.
“Ah! That part earlier, when you asked if this was a hidden camera prank—we can spin that. Just drop the dumb look, and go for more of a, ‘What? Partnered with Min Yu-hyun? I’m honored!’ kind of vibe.”
Yu-hyun pressed a hand dramatically to his chest as he spoke.
“…Ehh…?”
But Do-il just kept repeating himself, looking as lost as ever.
“God, enough with the stupid ‘Eh?’ already! You’re driving me insane.”
Yu-hyun scowled and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Esper Beom Do-il has always been a huge fan of mine. So when your very first partner turns out to be me, of course you’d be thrilled. Got it?”
“Me? No, that’s not true.”
Do-il shot back immediately.
The way he flatly denied it made Yu-hyun’s pride flare up.
“…No, I mean pretend! Pretend! Who said you actually were my fan…?”
But as the words left his mouth, irritation started bubbling up again.
“And seriously—why aren’t you my fan?! How can you not be? Are you even really an Esper?”
“…Eh…?”
“Out of all the Espers in the Central Bureau, fewer than five aren’t my fans. And those are just the SS-rank and a couple of S-rank. Everyone else is practically dying for a chance to be Guided by me—”
Right then, Do-il yawned.
It was just a thoughtless reflex, but the timing was atrocious.
Because it made Yu-hyun’s eyes practically roll back in rage.
“ESPER BEOM DO-IL!!!”
Yu-hyun’s shout was sharp enough to split eardrums.
***
Lee Jun-hyung was lounging on the sofa in the living room, casually playing a game on his phone.
Technically, they were supposed to be filming the “first meeting with your first partner,” but Hyun Tae-oh had vanished without warning. Jun-hyung didn’t seem the least bit troubled—only Tae-oh’s assigned camera director looked flustered.
As he played, Jun-hyung idly wondered whether Do-il was managing to film properly with Yu-hyun.
“Shouldn’t we try calling him?”
“Seriously, where did he go?”
While Jun-hyung’s director and Tae-oh’s director fretted, Jun-hyung stayed slouched in his seat, absorbed in his game. Then his director carefully asked:
“Um, Guide Lee Jun-hyung. Could you maybe try contacting Esper Hyun Tae-oh—”
Before he could even finish, Tae-oh appeared in a blur.
“Already had your meeting?”
Without glancing up from his phone, Jun-hyung asked. Tae-oh collapsed onto the sofa across from him, tablet in hand.
Jun-hyung spoke again, still staring at his screen.
“You’ve got about twenty minutes of work time left.”
“……”
“Did Chi-yu say anything? Did he tell you why he ended up with someone else?”
At that, Tae-oh’s finger froze mid-scroll. He slowly raised his eyes to Jun-hyung.
“Let me ask you something.”
Jun-hyung froze too.
He lifted his head, surprised at the sudden seriousness in Tae-oh’s gaze. Then he dropped his eyes back to the phone, stared blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself:
“…Ah, I’m screwed.”
He shut off the screen and looked at Tae-oh.
“What is it?”
Hyun Tae-oh—who treated every human being besides Kang Chi-yu as beneath notice—was actually asking him something. Jun-hyung tried to sound calm, but his heart was pounding like it would burst.
The germaphobe, misanthrope Hyun Tae-oh having this long of a conversation with him was practically a miracle.
Even though they’d technically known each other since Academy days, Tae-oh had never once thought of him or Beom Do-il as “friends.” Not even as colleagues, really.
Everyone knew Kang Chi-yu was the only person Tae-oh truly considered a friend. Which made the fact that he wanted to ask Jun-hyung something… enormous progress.
“You’re friends with Beom Do-il, right?”
“…Huh? Uh, yeah. We’re friends.”
“So… how far do friends usually get involved with each other?”
“Involved?”
“I mean… like boundaries. The lines friends are supposed to keep.”
“Boundaries?”
Jun-hyung tilted his head. Tae-oh hesitated, not sure how to phrase it. But Jun-hyung caught on quickly and nodded.
“Ahh. So now you’re finally curious about that?”
Jun-hyung’s lips stretched into a grin. Tae-oh frowned deeply at the sight.
“Cut the commentary and just answer.”
Jun-hyung chuckled softly and asked the director to pause filming.
“Could you stop recording for a moment? We need a private conversation.”
He set his phone down on the table and continued:
“If Beom Do-il gets a lover, he won’t be able to keep hanging out with me the way he does now.”
That made Tae-oh look sharply at him. Jun-hyung met his gaze with calm certainty.
“That’s the most basic boundary. When your friend gets into a relationship, you step back.”
At the time they should’ve been filming the “first meeting with the first partner,” Jun-hyung was counseling Hyun Tae-oh instead.
He’d known for a long time that Tae-oh liked Chi-yu without realizing it himself.
He’d always wondered when Tae-oh would finally figure it out—and when he and Chi-yu would end up together.
But things had shifted. For some reason, Chi-yu had begun to distance himself, and it was Tae-oh who dragged him onto PairBorn. Their relationship seemed to veer in another direction.
Still, they were holding onto the “friend” label. And now Yoon Do-jae had joined the picture.
From the start, Do-jae’s behavior toward Chi-yu had been different. He had a history of asking Jun-hyung about him constantly during work. So Jun-hyung figured Do-jae might be the one to change the course between them.
Which made it only natural, now that Do-jae and Chi-yu had become first partners, that Tae-oh would finally start facing his own feelings.
Whether things shifted again would depend on how much this socially clueless guy could recognize his own heart. But right now, Jun-hyung had only one piece of advice.
“If he’s precious to you, then friendship isn’t enough.”
“……”
“If you can stomach watching someone else become his person, then fine. But if not…”
At that, Tae-oh’s expression hardened.
Of course. What unsettled him most was the thought of losing Chi-yu to someone else.
But as just a “friend,” he didn’t know how far he was allowed to interfere. That’s why he was frustrated.
“What if I’m not just a friend?”
“Then it’s obvious. Make him your lover.”
At those words, Tae-oh scowled.
“How could I date Chi-yu?”
Jun-hyung blinked.
“Why not? Don’t you like him?”
“I do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“If liking him meant dating him, then Chi-yu and I would’ve already become strangers a long time ago.”
Jun-hyung stared, stunned. The logic was so warped he almost couldn’t process it—but coming from Hyun Tae-oh, maybe it made sense.
He was terrible at relationships. Chi-yu was the only person he’d ever let close. He’d never even had a real conversation with anyone else.
The fact that he was sitting here talking now felt like a miracle.
To him, Chi-yu wasn’t just a friend or a potential lover. He was irreplaceable. And Tae-oh didn’t want to risk ruining that bond with something as fragile as romance.
So that’s the core of it, Jun-hyung realized.
“Alright. Now I get it. That’s why you think you can’t date him.”
“……”
“But listen—if you’re so afraid of losing him, that’s exactly how you will lose him. If you really don’t want that, you’ve got to let go of that fear.”
“Let it go?”
“If he’s that important, don’t waste time imagining breaking up. Just date him. Love him as much as you want, be with him as much as you want.”
“And if we break up? If that happens—”
“Why are you even thinking about that? You’re crazy about him, right? Who worries about breaking up before they’ve even started?”
“I can’t not think about it. I absolutely won’t lose Chi-yu.”
“If you’re too scared to start, you’ll lose him anyway.”
“……”
“If you don’t date, if you don’t Imprint, you’ll just stay ‘friends.’ Do you think Chi-yu will stay single forever? Someone else will come along who wants him.”
Then suddenly, Jun-hyung’s eyes lit up.
“Or better yet—just Imprint with him.”
“……”
“Yeah. Imprint him.”
“……”
“If you don’t want to be apart, that’s the answer. Once you Imprint, you literally can’t separate until death. For us, that’s more binding than marriage. Why worry when the solution’s right there?”
“…He rejected me.”
“What?”
“Chi-yu said… he’ll only Imprint with someone he loves so much he can’t live without them.”
Jun-hyung blinked in disbelief.
That’s you, idiot.
The words sat heavy on his tongue but wouldn’t come out.
“Fuck, so who the hell… Did Chi-yu already love someone? Do you know who?”
It’s you, dumbass.
Jun-hyung’s eyes narrowed.
“He said he loved someone without telling me.”
That’s still you.
“Which means… it’s not me. Chi-yu can find someone else to laugh with, cry with, share everything with. But for me, it has to be him. Only him.”
Tae-oh’s brows furrowed as he muttered low.
“…That’s a confession.”
Jun-hyung gave him a look of disbelief.
“In the end, you’re saying you can’t live without Kang Chi-yu.”
“……”
“Then tell him. Tell him you like him. Ask him out.”
“……”
“Breaking up? Why think about that? Once you’re dating and Imprinted, the only way you’ll be apart is if one of you dies. That’s it. Why hesitate when you’ve got that?”
“……”
“You’re not about to die for your Imprint partner like I would. You’ve got the confidence to protect him for life. To never change your heart.”
“……”
“Honestly, I can’t even imagine you with anyone else. So it’s simple. There’s nothing to agonize over.”
“……”
“Confess. Ask him out. And once you’re together, work toward making him want to Imprint with you. Though honestly, I doubt you’ll even need to try—he’ll get there. Either way, that’s far better than clinging anxiously to the title of ‘friend.’ You’ll be able to keep Chi-yu all to yourself. Is that really something to hesitate over?”
At Jun-hyung’s words, Hyun Tae-oh lowered his gaze, deep in thought.
